


BatCat Week 2017

by Merixcil



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Catwoman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: D/s undertones, F/M, Selina is a tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-30 11:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12652626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: A collection of fics written for BatCat week 2017, celebrating and exploring Bruce and Selina's relationship





	1. Rooftops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 prompt: Rooftops
> 
> Selina catches Bruce on the way to a job and persuades him to let her tag along

"Do you remember the first time you fell?"

Selina doesn't have to look at Bruce to know how hard set his jaw is, teeth clenched to fight the tide of words she knows is swelling inside him. If she'd asked him when they were still wrapped around each other, stripped of their civvies, he would have talked. Post-sex is the best time to get anything out of him. 

Dressed in his working gear with the city spread out below him is about the worst time to ask him to be honest. Bruce grunts in irritation and the lights wink up at him. These streets know his secrets, all of them, even if no one else ever will. 

Selina doesn't know all his secrets, not yet. It doesn't trouble her, she has an extensive back catalog of her own. Things the Batman doesn't know and can't kill him. She wants to tell him everything, but if he's paranoid then what does that make her? She still needs time. She'll get there. They both need to be patient. 

"I don't fall." Bruce tells her in his best Batman voice. It's a lot less intimidating now she knows how he does it. It's nothing fancy, he just drops his voice and lets it all pour out of him, slipping in a slight Gotham twang that hides the upper class neutrality of his civilian voice. 

He's lying. She's seen him fall, but if he's not ready to talk about it more fool her to press the issue. It's just Batman talking, after all, and what good would Batman be if he fell?

It's funny how a lifetime spent running over these rooftops will erase your appreciation for the power of gravity. The building their on right now, a ten story office block in lower midtown, doesn't feel high to Selina, certainly not tall enough to cause any damage should she slip off the edge. If she were to test that critical error in her thinking, she would be dead from the g force before she hit the street below. 

Selina used to fall off shipping containers down by the ports, when she was small enough to still let someone play parent to her and being out after dark required her to sneak out of whichever abandoned building they were sleeping in that week. Learning how to run through Gotham on her own two feet has been a lifetime in the making, but back then she was learning the first and most important lesson around sprained ankles and the occasional broken finger - how you stick the landing is more important than how far you learn to fly. 

She leans backwards till she's pressed against Bruce's side, arching into him and smiling up at the plastic eyes of the cowl. He doesn't flinch. Selina almost laughs. "Alright, big guy. Where to tonight?"

"I can handle this myself."

"I'm not about to suggest you need help doing anything. But if you wanted the company, I'm already out."

He tips his head ever so slightly, looking down at her and weighing his options. Batman doesn't want to enjoy anyone's company, but Bruce is awfully good at setting himself rules he can't follow. 

Rising onto the balls of her feet, Selina runs a hand along Bruce's shoulder, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "Look at me, all dressed up with nowhere to go."

He gives her a look that isn't really anything but by Batman's standards could pass as despairing. "I shouldn't."

She's already won.

"Ok then." Selina falls back, prowling away from him without breaking eye contact. "You know, there's this new jewelry store in the diamond district, just past Smith Street. I've been dying to check it out. You won't mind if I stick my nose round the door after hours, right?"

"Selina-" Bruce forgets himself and his voice slips up an octave. He almost sounds like himself. 

Selina grins wicked. "Yes, _Bruce_?"

His shoulders slump fractionally in defeat. "Maroni's men have been making moves at the East End ports and there's a large arms shipment set to come in this week that I'm pretty sure they're going to try to divert. I'll be on stakeout, it won't be fun."

"I'm not marrying you for fun."

The grapple is in Bruce's hand in an instant. He jerks his head, indicating that Selina should follow him. Before she can breathe he's let the line spring free and has slipped up into the still night air. The cape fans out behind him as he goes, slowing his rise over the patchwork of neon rising up from below.

Two can play at that game. Once upon a time it would have taken Selina all night to catch up to him, but Bruce is deliciously soft when she wants him to be. She goes for her own grapple, smaller than his so that it can clip to her hip without ruining the line of her work suit but as effective as teh Batman's. She aims for the highest point she can see, shooting straight part the hole in the overcast skies where the moon should be. It catches against the lip of a windowsill and holds fast. She presses the button to retract the line and goes soaring up over the rooftops. 

None of them look high enough to hurt her should she fall. She couldn't fall is she tried. 

When she comes in to land, Bruce is waiting for her, smiling. "I see you're getting the hang of the grapple."

Selina looks to the skyline, searching for her next target. "I put that down to the years I spent watching your ass disappear on me with one of these things."

She reaches round to give Bruce's buttocks a cursory squeeze and barely has time to appreciate his yelp of surprise before she takes off, up into the night, knowing he'll be following right behind her. 


	2. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selina talks Bruce into trying out a new desert parlour

Gotham is slowly but surely being taken over by desert parlours. Just last week, Bruce was walking down Madison and saw men installing furniture and stripping down the walls of this place, tonight it’s a fully-fledged business with a healthy population of customers filling up it’s pastel coloured retro inspired booths, long after quitting time for the average barista.

Selina says this is a particularly good one, though how she’s had time to work that out he has no idea. He’s supposed to be meeting her in there, dressed down as he is in an old coat with one or two questionable stains on it – not enough to make him look like he just wandered in off the streets but enough to deter any suspicions that he’s a billionaire in disguise. The fake nose helps, and the sunglasses.

Sunglasses after dark are supposed to be tacky. Bruce examines his reflection in the shop window, pulls off the glasses and drags his hat further down over his eyes. It’ll have to do. If anyone does recognise him, he supposes he can slip out the back fairly easily. This property backs onto a rather narrow alley that winds its way through several blocks before coming out west of the diamond district, far enough out he would hope to have made plans on how to proceed by the time he arrives.

Bruce enters the parlour and starts scanning faces in search of Selina. He spots her almost instantly, hiding beneath an obnoxiously bad platinum wig and a thick rimmed set of spectacles with the lenses popped out. She’s occupying a candy pink booth a few rows back from the windows and eyeing up a gargantuan sheet of cardboard that he has to assume is the menu.

Bruce hurries over and drops into the seat opposite her, Selina doesn’t look up. “I’m torn between the brownie and the chocolate cake.”

Bruce frowns. “I thought this place specialised in ice cream.”

“It does. You get ice cream with the deserts, and they warm them up for you so you get the hot brownie with the cold ice cream. Plus, I’m probably gonna get a shake so it’s all good.”

It’s unlikely that Bruce would benefit from pointing out that there’s always ice cream in the Manor and Alfred’s supposed to make an incredible brownie. He knows that’s not the point. The point is being out together, in public, without any capes or younger bat family members getting under their feet. It’s a nice idea in principal, but for the time being he’s got to maintain the playboy Bruce Wayne persona and he’d like to limit his reported public interactions with his bride-to-be as far as possible until he’s ready to announce their engagement.

Selina bites her lip, eyes flashing from one side of the menu to the other. “You know what? It’s gotta be the chocolate cake. It comes with nuts and whipped cream.” Her eyes flick up to meet Bruce’s, grinning wide and excited like she’s just made a very important decision.

She holds that position for a full ten seconds before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God. What are you wearing?”

“Clothes.” Bruce says, nonplussed. 

“Is that what they’re calling those these days.” Selina wrinkles her nose but she’s still smiling. “Take that rotten old jacket off. Geez that looks like a Matches special. And what’s with the hat? You look like a flasher with strong political opinions about men’s oppression by women.”

“Reverse sexism isn’t real…”

“Well its good to know you haven't completely lost it.” She laughs as he shucks off his coat and tucks it down the side of the booth along with his hat. “You’re _nose_ Bruce.”

“Names!” Bruce chides her.

Selina raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Just…please explain the prosthetics.”

“I don’t want the paparazzi finding me here.”

“Oh, I see. So you don’t wanna be seen in public with me.” Selina’s still smirking at him, teasing. She’s never actually been on his arm for a formal public event and as such she doesn’t understand exactly what dating Bruce Wayne entails. It’s harder for him, he doesn’t see anything funny in his attempts to be discrete.

“Your wig is lovely by the way.” He counters.

Selina makes a show of preening overmuch, tossing back ratty stands of hair and brushing an uneven fringe out of the front of her glasses. “What wig? This is my real hair.”

Selina’s real hair grows black and straight and doesn’t take to hair dye. Hence her rather incredible selection of wigs and hairpieces. Bruce isn’t sure if the pixie cut she usually sports is maintained to make slipping in and out of them all the easier or if it’s an aesthetic choice. “Could have fooled me.”

“Well mister b-man, or whatever I’m supposed to call you when we’re out like this, you have bigger concerns than what I do with my hair.”

It’s Bruce’s turn to raise an eyebrow when Selina slips a hand onto his knee under the table. It’s cruel of her, really. She knows he has a more or less unexplored exhibitionist streak and when her eyes go hard yet warm like they’re doing just now he’s more or less putty under her hands. He takes measured breaths through his nose and tries to decide if he wants her to move her hand further up his thigh, right here in a desert parlour of all places. Certainly, the chances of him pushing her away are disappointingly low.

“Do I now?” Bruce’s eyes don’t leave hers. His voice does stay mercifully steady.

“Yes, you see.” Selina leans across the table and Bruce leans in to meet her half way. If she has to tip too much further forward she’ll be forced to take her hand off his knee and he refuses to let that happen. “We’re here, on a date, in public no less. And the waitress is walking over to us right now.”

Bruce doesn’t follow. “What?”

“What are you having?” Selina waggles the menu in front of his face and squeezes his knee, something she normally doesn’t do unless she’s issuing a command.

A twinge of disappointment curdles in Bruce’s gut. It’s not a sex thing. Which is probably for the best. But still. “Um…I don’t know.”

“Well what do you like?”

“I’m not exactly a foodie, Selina.”

“Names!” She winks.

“What can I get you guys?” The waitress asks. Her voice is gratingly cheerful and she’s dressed like she works in a nineteen fifties diner that went heavy on the frills.

Bruce has no idea what to say, so he lets Selina talk while he glances down frantically at the menu, trying to find something that doesn’t sound too horrifically sweet.

Selina fires off her order like gunfire, the practiced art of one well versed with an establishment. Bruce wonders just how many times she's been here already.

“And you?” The waitress turns to Bruce.

Bruce opens his mouth, still trying to make head or tail of the ridiculously long menu. Who needs fifteen ice cream sundaes to choose from? “I-“

“He’ll have the toffee waffle stack with extra marshmallows and chocolate ice cream on the side.” Selina cuts in.

The waitress nods and writes that down. “Anything else?”

Bruce shoots Selina a glare and she shrugs at him with a lazy grin. “Water, please.”

“Coming right up!” The waitress snatches up the menu and trots back to the ice cream counter at the front of the shop.

Selina’s hand is still on Bruce’s knee. “I can order for myself, you know.” He tells her.

“Yes, but you’d order something boring, with loads of fruit.”

“Fruit is…good.”

“You were going to say healthy.”

“I try to take care of myself.”

“Uh huh. When was the last time you ate something that wasn’t chicken breast or protein bars?” Selina asks.

It takes Bruce a moment to come up with an answer. Damian had demanded burritos after a long winded stake out and they had dropped into a hole in the wall place a couple of blocks from here after they were done for the night.

That had been over a week ago. Selina may have a point.

“Well they can’t be worse than Alfred’s waffles.” Bruce concedes. He leans back in the booth and tries not to focus on how the false nose he’s wearing is starting to put uncomfortable pressure on the bridge of his nose.

“That’s the spirit!” Selina nods. Her hand is still on his knee, it’s very distracting. “So, honey, what have you been up to?”

That’s a challenge if ever he heard one, he can see it flashing in her olive eyes. The codes he’s established with members of his family for discussing covert business in public spaces don’t apply between the two of them, because they’ve so rarely had cause to discuss work out of costume.

Of course, Selina might be asking about what Bruce has been doing in his more public time off, but seeing as he’d done little but sleep and work for the past month he can't see that that would interest her.

“I haven’t been up to much outside of work.” He admits. “But the other day I had to go and see a man about a crocodile.”

“Well that sounds like a whole lot of hassel, tell me more.”

Two hours later and Bruce has managed to explain the inner machinations of what he believes to be an overly complex Two Face plot in the works, all without saying anything that would be deemed suspect were he caught on tape. In return, Selina has told him about a whole lot of expensive items on loan to various Gotham museums and art galleries for the foreseeable future and he’s having to save the lecture on how he sincerely hopes she’s not going to try stealing them for the ride home.

Selina seems to read his mind. “Only an idiot would confess before committing the crime.” She bats her eyelashes and underneath the thick frames she looks almost innocent. That expression of wide eyed naivete that doesn’t suit her in the least but that she wears so well.

Bruce wants to kiss it off her.

“I’ll get the bill.” He says as they move towards the exit.

“Look at you, proper gentleman.” Selina smiles. “How were the waffles?”

“Overly sweet, dripping in saturated fats and a waste of good marshmallows.” Bruce tells her, honestly. “But the company was sublime.”

Selina smiles at that. She squeezes Bruce’s knee again, her hand has barely left it the entire evening and he can’t wait to get back to the Manor so she can make good on that unspoken promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't have time to edit this properly but *jazz hands* ta dah!


	3. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sweaty club, a lost target. You best believe Selina's going to make the best of this situation.

The smell of sweat hangs heavy in the air, high summer in Gotham is a terrible time to be trapped underground in a mess of moving bodies. The lights keep changing at just the wrong moment and Bruce keeps crashing into people. He doesn’t think they can hear he vague apologies he’s leaving in his wake, a lot of people are going to walk out of here tonight with a story about an unpleasant man who spent the evening barging into them.

He hates clubs, always has. The music is never to his taste, he doesn’t feel comfortable in what most people would describe as casual wear and he’s definitely moved out of the average age range of this kind of establishment. Bruce stumbles forward, trying to keep up with Selina as she cuts through the crowd. “Most of these people don't look old enough to drive.”

“Is someone having an age crisis?” Selina calls over the speakers. “Because you really shouldn’t worry about all that. You’re still the hottest stud in this place.”

Bruce really isn’t fussed if the other patrons find him at all attractive. He grabs Selina’s hand to keep from losing her amongst the people and lets her lead the way.

They wind up next to the stage at the back of the room, closed off tonight but occasionally used for live music. Bruce looks around, trying to spot their target. “I don’t see him.”

“What a shame!” Selina replies in a voice that doesn’t make it sound like a shame at all.

“He should be here.”

“And yet, he is not.”

Bruce frowns at her. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“I mean, I saw him leave about five minutes after we came in.”

“Selina!” Bruce growls. She’s beautiful and smart and she challenges in the best way possible but she can be very frustrating at times.

“What?” Selina takes a long sip of a drink that Bruce doesn’t remember her buying.

“We need to go, now. I have to catch up to him.”

“He’s a petty criminal, Bruce.”

“Names!”

“We’re out in public without capes or disguises, if someone was going to notice you they would have done it by now.”

The last thing Bruce wants is to get into a pointless argument with her, but he’s angrier than he’d like to admit. He’s been hunting down this lead for a few days and having it slip out of his fingers is more than a little annoying. He’d only agreed to come into the club in person because Selina was so sure that it was the fastest way to gather information.

He takes a steadying breath and is almost instantly knocked down by what looks like a teenager wearing a handful of string to cover their privates. “I’m going to go now. Are you coming with me, or will I see you back at the Manor?”

“You’re not going to go, grumpy guts.” Selina reaches out to grab him before he falls and setting a steadying hand on his hip. “That kid who supposedly took you so long to track down works at the corner store just round the corner from my apartment. If you don’t catch him tonight you can pick him up tomorrow.”

“But I need to-“

“He left like fifteen minutes ago. Unless you have any idea where he was headed you’ll waste the rest of the night turning over trashcans trying to scare him out of hiding.” Selina reaches up to thread a hand behind Bruce’s head. He only slightly resents how easily he leans into her when she moves to kiss him. “Stay.”

“I can’t.” Bruce can feel the anger seeping out of him, replaced by disappointment that he can’t stay here with her. He doesn’t even know what to do with himself in a place like this, he just likes the way she seems to slip into the heady atmosphere like a hand into a glove.

Selina lets out a low growl of irritation and turns, backing herself up hard and fast against him and setting his hands on her hips. She doesn’t let go of the back of his neck.

It feels like a rather intimate position for a public setting. Bruce looks up, sure that someone much be gawking at them but no one’s paying them any mind. “Selina, what are you doing?”

“Helping you better manage your time.” She says with grim determination, and rolls her hips back into his.

That’s definitely more intimate than Bruce is used to dealing with in public. His breath catches when she pushes up hard against his crotch, the pressure not enough to titillate on its own but it instantly sends his mind spiralling to more sordid places.

She does it again, and again, keeping her movements perfectly in time with the thumping bass that swallows every sound from outside the little bubble they’ve built between them. By the song's end, Bruce isn’t thinking about catching up to his lead anymore.

“We could stay for a while.” He concedes.

Selina smiles up at him, exposing incisors he’s sure she files into points. The next song starts and they move into the music together and if anyone is watching them, Bruce is too wrapped up in her to notice.


	4. Married Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rose by any other name may smell as sweet, but Selina's perfectly happy with her own name, thank you very much
> 
> (set after Bruce and Selina have gotten married)

"Hello? Is that Mrs Wayne?"

Selina slams the phone down before they can get another word in. That's the fourth time today someone's tried her patience with this bullshit and if it happens again she's going to disconnect the line. It's not even midday, for God's sake. She'd rather hoped that assumptions about last name changes had been thrown out along with the previous century. 

She eyes the phone suspiciously, debating calling Bruce just to be sure he hasn't surreptitiously changed her name on any public records. On the one hand she doesn't want to think he'd be so inconsiderate but on the other he's a control freak who has trouble understanding other people's boundaries. He's probably still asleep, given the time of day. What with his hectic night time schedule he rarely rises before four in the afternoon.

Neither does Selina. Unfortunately she has places to be, so she shoots him a text reminding him that she's booked them a table for dinner and grabs her coat to leave. Isis curls around her ankles as she makes for the floor, purring aggressively like she thinks it's feeding time. She jumps onto the stand where Selina throws the mail when she doesn't have the time or energy to deal with. 

"Yeah, I know." Selina huffs when Isis pushes aside a stack of coupons to reveal what looks like this month's electricity bill with the words  _Selina Wayne_  imprinted above the address. 

Holly squeals when Selina walks into her corner store. "Oh my God, you made it! It's been too long, how are you?"

"I'm good." Selina smiles as she's almost knocked over by the force of the hug she's pulled into. 

Holly squeezes her tight before taking a step back to get a better look at her. "You look good. How's married life treating you?"

"The same as ever." Selina replies. Holly asks her the same thing every time they meet. "You know, I didn't up and get a whole new life because someone got round to putting a ring on it."

"Oh come on, you married Bruce motherfuckin' Wayne. That's gotta change  _something_."

"We were on and off for years before he popped the question. Trust me, the only thing that's changed is the ring."

"And a fine ring it is too. I don't think you could have stolen yourself a nicer one." Holly blows a kiss towards the frankly ridiculous diamond on Selina's left hand as she dashes behind the counter to grab her coat. 

Selina eyes her warily. "What are you doing?"

"What are  _we_  doing, you mean?" Holly ushers her out of the shop, flips the sign on the door to 'closed; and locks up behind them. "We are gonna go get coffee with some of your preposterously rich husband's money, Mrs Wayne."

"That's not my name!" Selina snaps. But she could really use a pick me up, and there's a place a couple of blocks from here that makes an espresso strong enough to make your eyes water. It sounds nicer than having to play catch up while Holly serves customers. 

Using the card Bruce gave her is always something of a moral dilemma. Having more or less unlimited funds sitting in her pocket certainly makes life easier but it has the name  _Wayne_  imprinted across the front in neat silver letters and she's not at all sure she likes that. 

Not  _Selina Wayne_ , mind. Bruce isn't that stupid. He tries to keep the cards he hands out to his family members as generic as possible, claiming that it helps protect their identities but it doesn't sit entirely right with her. She's been meaning to ask him to get her one specific to her for a few weeks now. 

Holly loves the thrill of spending Bruce's money though, so Selina gets them each a coffee and a slice of cake with the card and they depart to the back of the cafe. 

"I dont get it." Holly points her cake fork at Selina accusingly. "You're a married woman now, why do you still have your old apartment?"

"Because it's mine." Selina says. She loves the Manor, she has her own room there with a wardrobe full of her clothes and full access to Bruce's suite. She usually winds up staying there at least twice a week but much as it's become her second home, she doesn't think she could ever give up the life she made for herself entirely. 

Besides, Isis doesn't like dogs. Ace and Titus would be far too much for her baby. 

"Isn't that weird though? Like he's you're husband, but he's on the other side of the city without you." Holly shakes her head. "I dunno, Selina. I wouldn't trust a guy with that kind of reputation on his own. Don't you get worried that hes gonna start up with the supermodels and actresses again?"

Selina wouldn't bat an eyelid if she walked in on Bruce engaging in a hundred strong orgy without her prior permission, she doesn't have the energy for that kind of jealousy. Nor does she have the heart to explain to Holly that the playboy shtick has always been more or less an act and that Bruce's sexual interests are so few and far between it's a wonder he ever got it up for any of the arm candy he used to ponce around with. It would rather ruin the magic of her supposedly 'tying him down'. 

She has no such qualms when it comes to being honest about how many times she's tied Bruce down in the literal sense, but she doesn't go for that kind of talk without a couple of glasses of wine in her. ""Listen, I wouldn't have married him if I didn't trust him."

"So it's just me being paranoid?" Holly asks around a mouthful of cake. 

"Pretty much." Selina smirks. "So tell me, when are you and Bethany getting hitched?"

Selina waves Holly goodbye outside the cage and sets off to a rather more formal appointment at the bank. She's gone ten blocks and has been more or less drenched before she remembers that she could have caught a cab on the Wayne family dime. It rains so much in Gotham that she'd pretty much forgotten it was possible to get from Point A to Point B without getting soaked. 

She doesn't bother hailing a cab, she's already wet. Selina arrives at the Gotham National Bank looking like a drowned rat and there's little she can do to salvage her appearance but smile willingly at the clerk they've assigned to deal with her. 

The clerk, a young guy who smells like he has just enough money to forgo common decency, barely disguises his sneer when he looks up at her. "How can I help you?"

Selina can practically read his mind, it's all spelled out in his face. Hes wondering why on Earth this weirdo brown woman thinks she has the right to stand in this building, steadily dripping onto the atrium tiles. She adopts a simpering smile. "I'm here to view my safety ddeposit box."

That's the truth, just not the whole truth. Bruce has it on good authority that Blackmask is storing something big in the same vault as Selina's personal safety deposit box. He's far too much of a goody two shoes to take advantage of an opening like that, not without weeks of planning, and he doesn't have the gymnastic skills to pull off what she's planning. 

Selina's missing that instinct to look before she leaps, it's not a big deal when you know you're going to land on all fours. Blackmask is trying to consolidate power amongst the drug dealers that circle Gotham Heights like vultures and she's not going to stand for it. 

The clerk's face doesn't soften. "Do you have your key?"

Selina pulls the key Bruce gave her out of the insides of her coat and hands it over. The clerk starts fiddling with his computer, squinting at the screen as he pulls up her details.

It's sort of beautiful, the moment of sheer panic that crosses his face when he realises who she is. "I...er...my apologies, Mrs Wayne."

It's easier not to correct him. Selina lets her eyes go wide in forced confusion. "What are you apologising for?"

"Nothing." The clerk gets to his feet in a rush. "Please, follow me."

Selina stays a few paces behind him, bringing up her hand to hide a laugh. 

The Ocelot is a Gotham institution, and like all restaurants with that kind of clout it charges through the nose and makes you feel like a slob if your appearance is anything less than immaculate. Luckily, Selina scrubs up pretty well. She's wearing a low cut green velvet number hat's just the right side of smart-casual to make her look like she dines out like this all the time. 

She sips at a glass of red that tastes like Bruce is going to pay for everything tonight. He's running late, not enough to worry her but getting there. 

A waiter slinks past to ask her if she'd like another bottle. She's been here often enough that the staff know not to ask if anyone will be joining her. 

Someone always joins her, usually a mark but a couple of times she's come to The Ocelot for the joy of it. This will be here forth actual date here. 

Assuming Bruce shows up. Selina fires off a text asking where he's got to. 

He doesn't reply, but he arrives five minutes later, dashing to his seat. "Sorry I'm late."

Selina raises an eyebrow. "You should be. Twenty minutes? I was starting to think you stood me up."

"I know, I know. Work stuff. I'll tell you about it later."

That's interesting. It normally takes quite a bit of needling to get him to divulge his 'work' plans. 

"Great." Selina leans over the table to pour Bruce a glass of wine that he almost certainly won't drink. "I got some  _work_  done today too."

Bruce looks at her, still frazzled from the tearing hurry he was evidently in to make it here tonight. His eyes focus, then narrow. "Selina, you didn't."

"I did. It's done. Don't worry about it."

He opens his mouth to deliver what was no doubt intended to be a winning argument as to why messing with Blackmask like that is at best foolish and at worst deadly, but is interrupted by the maitre d stepping over to their table to get his attention. "Mr Kyle?"

"Yes?" Bruce doesn't even flinch.

The maitre d holds out a slim black wallet. "You dropped this on your way in."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Quite alright Mr Kyle."

Bruce pockets the wallet and turns back to Selina, frowning. He's lost his train of thought. "Where was I?"

"Hey, c'mon. Let's have dinner and save the work talk for later." Selina can feel herself grinning like a loon but she can't quite bring herself to care. 

Bruce cocks his head, smiling slightly back at her. "What?"

"Nothing." Selina shakes her head. They can have a conversation about the name on her mail another time. 


	5. Batkittens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selina deals with the batkid's new expectations of her following the engagement
> 
>  
> 
> (This is mostly a batfam feels sort of fic, but some of the kids aren't all that nice to Selina. If you're in need of straight up fluff this might not be the fic for you)

Selina's known Dick since he was twelve and she was an unrepentant villain. She's still unrepentant, but she's more or less left her villain days behind her. If the odd bit of jewelry goes missing from a mob owned store, its not like anyone's counting, not in a city this size.

Having known him for so long, Selina's entirely unsurprised when Dick shows up on her doorstep brandishing a frankly outrageous bouquet of pink and orange roses and a bottle of red no doubt looted from the Wayne family wine cellar. 

He grins at her over the top of the flowers. "I hear congratulations are in order."

"You're ridiculous." Selina throws the door open to let him in. 

She doesn't have a vase big enough for the roses, so they improvise by cutting off the top of an old milk carton and shoving them in there with a sachet of plant food and some water. Selina resolves to ask Ivy if she's got anything more suitable the next time they meet. 

"Seriously, you didn't have to." Selina gestures to the flowers sometime after they've finished the bottle Dick brought with him and started working their way through her limoncello stash. 

Dick can't handle vodka and he hates the taste of whiskey. Like she said, he's ridiculous. 

He waves her down. "Please, you're about to become my step mum. It was the least I could do."

Seline makes a face. "God. I'm so not trying to be anyone's mum."

"Didn't think so." Dick winks at her. "Forreal though, I wanted to do something. I love Bruce and you're pretty great and its high time the two of you tied the knot. So. Congrats."

"You always were a sweetie." Selina pinches at Dicks cheeks. 

Dick, who has always been entirely too lovely for is own good, doesn't tell her to stop. 

 

 

 

Jason isn't so easily impressed. Selina meets him in a back alley that, strictly speaking, neither of them should be in. It's long after the night lights of the city have swallowed up the dark, the neon catching the hard lines of his mask. 

He moves towards her with an unsteady gait. He's been drinking. Bruce worries that he spends too much of his time doing that. 

"I hear you're fucking my _dad_." He spits the last word like it's poison. "Heard you fucked him so good hat he decided to keep you. Doesn't make you special, doesn't make you my mum."

Selina raises an eyebrow. "Can't say I planned on becoming a parent anytime soon. I'll put you in hospital if you ever speak to me like that again, though."

He laughs, slurring out something she can't quite make out. She's gone before he can make any more of a fool of himself and Selina resolves not to tell bruce about the encounter if Jason doesn't. 

 

 

 

It's easy to forget that when she's not kicking someone's teeth in, Cassie is a sweetheart. Selina's only met her out of uniform a handful of times and never one on one so she's a little surprised to find her waiting on the stoop when she comes up to the Manor one afternoon. 

"Hi!"

Selina looks down at her as she climbs the steps to the front door. "Is Bruce in?"

"Out."

"Know when he'll be back?"

Cassie shakes her head. Selina lets herself in and calls out to let Alfred know it's her. The girl trots in behind her. 

Woman. Cassie's got to be in her early twenties. Being a big kid isn't the same thing as being a child. 

Cassie follows Selina all the way to the kitchen, hovering a few steps behind her, impatient. It's slightly eerie, Peter Pan's shadow trying to stitch itself back to the bottom of her feet. 

"You alright there?" Selina asks, heading to the fridge for a glass of grapefruit juice and offering Cassie some. 

Cassie accepts with a lot of overexcited nodding. "You're going to marry Batman."

"Yes, I am."

"Hes very happy about it." Cassie says around a massive gulp of grapefruit juice. 

The joyous honesty with which she divulges this news catches Selina off guard. "Yeah?"

"Yes." Cassie confirms. She drains the rest of her juice and her brows furrow in concentration. "Batman's my dad, but he's not my only dad."

Selina is strill trying to process the fact that Bruce is being openly, expressively happy enough that his children have noticed. The sudden change of subject throws her. "Err...right."

"If you marry him, will you be my mum?"

The urge to scream in terror at the prospect of having to play parent to an adult she doesn't know terribly well is strong, but Selina just about manages to hold herself steady. "I mean..."

"You don't want to." Cassie infers, in the same voice one might use to discuss the weather. "Its fine, I don't need another mum." Her smile springs back. "Can I come see your cat sometime? I like cats."

"Sure." Selina says, thoroughly bemused. She empties the last of the grapefruit juice into Cassie's glass and watches her wolf it down just as fast as the first. She thinks she's going to enjoy getting to know this one. 

 

 

 

Tim has no difficult questions about her hypothetical parenting skills. Considering the hand he's been dealt, he's surprisingly free of parental issues. He's also the one of Bruce's kids that Selina knows best and it doesn't even occur to her that anything might change between them following the engagement until he brings it up. 

"You're not going to try to mother me, are you?" He asks with a sly smile, curled over a workbench in the cave. 

Seina shudders. "Perish the thought."

They keep working in companionable silence. Nothing's going to change here. 

 

 

 

More because he's so new than anything, Selina knows almost nothing about Duke. It doesn't help that he always seems to have somewhere else to be when she's around, either working in his room or out in the town, supposedly studying at the library. She doesn't really have a chance to get to know him until she deliberately drops into the seat to his right for one of Alfred's semi-regular family dinners. 

"I'm Selina." She offers him a hand to shake. 

He takes it. "Yeah, I know. Sorry we haven't haven't been introduced before. I just kinda..."

His grip is strong but his hands are shaking. He's shy. Bruce has never brought home a shy one before. 

Over dinner, Selina teases the details of Duke's life out of him, starting with the small stuff and working upwards. He talks about school, he talks about saving up for xbox games and he bickers with Damian. 

"You're astonishingly normal." Selina tells him as they're packing up the plates. 

Duke laughs awkwardly. "Thanks? I guess my tragic backstory isn't quite as tragic as the rest of these guys'."

"You talking about us?" Dick asks. 

"None of your business." Selina grins and flips him the bird. Bruce makes a vague noise about proper dinner table behaviour that no one listens to. 

She turns back to Duke. "But you do have a tragic backstory?"

"Can't be a masked vigilante without one." There's a bite of something bitter and real lurking just below Duke's sarcasm and Selina is immediately sorry she asked. "My folks got hit by Joker toxin and never got better."

Oh. That's all kinds of rough. Selina can feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Duke shrugs. "It's not your fault."

Selina makes a point of not joking around with Duke from then on and she never dares ask if he expects her to fill the role of his mother. 

 

 

 

Jason was a cakewalk compared to Damian Wayne. At least Jason doesn't have a living mother who's history with Bruce is ages old and complex. At least Jason doesn't view her as a threat. 

"Oh. You're here." Damian greets Selina the same way almost every morning after she stays over, barging past her on his way to breakfast. 

Hes always playing with some kind of weapon when she goes down to the cave, sharpening batarangs or using his crossbow to take potshots at the bales of hay they keep down there for the cow. "You want to watch yourself." He jeers when she steps within ten metres of him and proptly sends a projectile soaring through the air inches from her head. 

"So should you." Selina mutters under her breath. She knows for a fact that the kid's aim is almost as good as Bruce's. 

The trouble is, Damian is still very much a child. Flipping out at him would not be the same thing as flipping out at Jason. In a few year's time he's going to have to start being careful what he says to her but no way is Selina going to fight a thirteen year old. 

"He's tougher than he looks." Tim assures her. 

"That little shit deserves everything he's got coming to him." Jason agrees. 

Dick casts a warning glare their way, then points in the general direction of Bruce's study. "Not worth it."

That's the truth of the matter. Damian is the golden boy, the heir apparent, and Bruce won't hear a word against him. 

"He's still upset from being seperated from his mother." Bruce insists when Selina suggests that maybe some form of discipline might be in order. 

"You'll never get through to him." Alfred sighs. 

Selina wakes up early one morning and finds Damian asleep on one of the drawing room sofas. He's perfectly relaxed, the scowl almost bled out of his face. Begrudgingly, she admits to herself that like this he's kind of adorable. 

 

 

 

She kisses Bruce hard, standing on a rooftop just outside the financial district. She doesn't care who sees. He could have died in that explosion, he probably should have. 

"I'm fine, Selina." He assures her, but he kisses back with such fervour. 

When they break apart, Huntress is still with them, in the dog house as far as Bruce is concerned. She should have bolted while they were diistracted by each other but instead she's staring at them with a kind of awe. 

The look in her eyes is somewhere between heartbreak and euphoria. Selina's seen both enough times to tell. For a moment, she wonders if Huntress and Bruce were ever a thing, but he's sure he would have told her if he was. 

"Can I help you?" Selina cocks a brow in her direction."

"No. Yes. I'm sorry." Huntress lets out a tiny peal of giggles and promptly bursts into tears. 

Selina looks at Bruce. He appears to be just as confused as she is. Evidently this is very out of character. 

Huntress smiles through her tears, reaching underneath her domino mask and sending streaks of black out makeup streaming down her cheeks. "It's fine." She sobs. "Everything's wonderful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huntress (Helena Bertinelli) is Bruce and Selina's daughter from another dimension - you know comics are with timestreams and whatnot. Or she usually is. What is continuity?


	6. Favourite Quotes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's a man of few words
> 
>  
> 
> (side note - I haven't had time to go through everyone else's BatCat week entrees for the past few days but istg I'm gonna make time tomorrow)

He’s a man of few words, choosing to let his fists do the talking and, where possible, staying silent altogether. He hovers at the edge of every photo ever taken in this no good, stinking, wonderful city. Selina learns to breathe a little deeper around him, taking enough time with her words that he might come to his senses and fill the silence all on his own.

When she gets tired, she leaves him hanging. He probably thinks she’s playing hard to get. “Come chase me, Batman.”

She doesn’t hear him talking to an empty room once she’s gone. “Count on it.”

She counts on it anyway. Selina lets herself drop in and out of his life because she’s not quite smart enough to stay away. Curiosity killed the cat, but she figures she has nine lives to play with.

 

 

 

Bruce likes that she doesn’t ask for more of him than he’s able to give. He’s so used to living his life behind closed doors and thick steal lining, supposedly impenetrable to anyone but himself that the words get stuck in his throat, even when he wants to tell her.

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say, just that he’s trying and he’s not very good at it. Selina isn’t what he would describe as talkative but she doesn’t have trouble talking, and when he thinks back on their earliest conversations it’s all her. He’s not sure that he ever said a thing. Stumbling out of the gate with his heart still guarded. “Selina…you…God, I’m pathetic.”

The first time she dares suggest that there might be more to the two of them than they can accomplish individually he goes stiff. Then he thinks about the night she told him that she could read his desires in the rigidity of his muscles. Batman isn’t supposed to be so easy to read.

Admittedly it’s not the very first time either of them have suggested that they might have a future that involves the other, but when Selina catches him on the lip of the city, standing on a gargoyle looking out across his kingdom and asks him. “Aren’t you at all curious?” it's the first time she really means it. She’s never really meant it before, not without guarding herself. He loves it, he hates it. He loves her but if he were to say as much he’s sure that everything he’s ever worked for would come crashing down around his ears so he flirts with temptation and pushes her away. It’s his loss, he thinks. He’s not used to worrying about anyone else’s heart.

 

 

 

She’s angry with him for weeks after the business with Hush, but mostly Selina’s angry with herself for letting it get that far. She’s good at reading between the lines but no matter what lies below the surface, it’s what people do that counts. Saying is doing, keeping silent is doing nothing. It doesn’t matter how much Bruce wants her if he can’t attest to it.

Years down the line, she’ll feel foolish for ever doubting him. That’s part of the deal with Bruce, he makes everyone around him look like an idiot. It’s Selina’s fondest wish that she’s managed to make him blush at his own stupidity once or twice. He is a moron, but only sometimes.

Like when he’s standing in the pouring rain, telling her about some stupid diamond that she’d long since forgotten about. “I’m so scared.”

That’s something she’s going to take to her grave, that she put fear in the Batman’s heart. Or he put it there himself but she inspired it. Whichever way round it is, the moment belongs to the two of them and when he asks her to marry him she’s never felt more powerful.

She says yes, of course. All that time, all those years of chasing each other and having to trust that the other was putting as much effort into the game. She’d be a fool not to.

 

 

 

Selina keeps talking, long after Bruce has let her into his life and made it clear that no matter how comfortable he may be with a person, the words don’t come easily. She fills the night air with flirtation and observation, argues with the kids over family dinners, asks Alfred for cleaning advice and to his butler’s eternal delight she actually listens.

But ultimately, she saves the best words for him. They take the night together, regardless of how heavy the rain is and when he’s least expecting it she fills him up with sweet nothings that he can swallow down and save for himself just as long as he likes.

“You are part of the night, just like me. We’re not afraid of it, we come alive it. We’re thrilled by it.” It’s an old one but a good one, and it still sends fire running down Bruce’s spine.

He replies with something even older, the words so rich, so true after all this time that he can’t help but let them pour straight back out. “Just you and me. Bat and Cat. In the dark.”

“Making sparks.” Selina whispers. Bruce doesn’t need to hear her to know she says the words. She doesn’t need to speak, but she does. Oh how she does.


	7. Star Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selina needs a favour (Star Wars AU)
> 
> Day 7 is an AU of my choice and I choose Star Wars. Partly because Star Wars is awesome, mostly because it's the only AU I felt like writing that hasn't been done as an Elseworlds story

The legends surrounding the Bat are legion. Some say that he came from an outer rim planet, stowed away in the belly of an old freighter carrying Twi’lek slaves. Some say that he rose from wealth having watched his parents be gunned down right before his eyes. Some say that was one of an elite cloned army that tore across the Galaxy centuries before, the last of his kind. Some say that he is a she.

The most popular legend is that he is a disgraced Jedi who operates in spite of the temple rather than in tandem with. This story is furthest from the truth but it’s definitely the most exciting. Selina likes to think that she knows him pretty well, all things considered, and she’s never gotten a whiff of the Force off him. Not that she’s an expert in how it works but she’s known enough fallen Jedi to spot one at a distance. Their kind are ten a penny on Coruscant.

The city stretches out far beyond the horizon in every direction. She’s never set foot outside the eastern quadrant but she hears that the Bat is known planet-wide. Everyone who’s ever caught a glimpse of him knows that he works with very high end tech but it borders on ridiculous how fast he’s able to get from one district to another. Every time Selina asks him how he does it he huffs and disappears into the skies.

On Coruscant, you can always go higher. When the buildings run out the traffic still runs over head and when sub atmo vehicles have run their course, you can always reach for the stars. The Bat moves across the city on cables pulled from his pocket, ducking into cruisers and space craft as his time permits. Selina watches him go and feels just a twinge of jealousy that she can’t join him. He’s broadly forgiving of her crimes, providing she returns everything she takes but he never tries to rescue her from her circumstances, he doesn’t try to make anything easier for her.

Selina would kick him in the teeth if he did, of course. If she wanted an easy life she would have gotten a job like everyone else, it’s everything beyond the wild lights of the city that she wants.

The good news is that she always knows where to find him, all it takes is a little light robbery and he’ll be with her within the hour. In the beginning he only showed up for her bigger heists, but the longer they’ve known each other the more easily he comes running to her side and the less difficult it is to persuade him that she really doesn’t deserve to be turned in to the Jedi high council.

That’s another big clue vis a vie the whole Force thing. Generally speaking, disgraced Jedi with a vendetta against the order don’t go dragging their captives back to the top dogs in town when they feel that someone has fallen through the cracks in the law. The Bat is infamous for leaving people tied up for the Jedi to find, complete with detailed evidence for all their crimes.

Selina breaks into a second hand kyber crystal emporium just south of the Opera. She doesn’t even steal anything, but the Bat comes all the same. He bursts in through an open window, frowning at her. “Put it back.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Selina smiles and she hears him growl through the dark.

“I don’t have time for this.” He mutters.

Lies. If he didn’t have time for her he wouldn’t be here. The next step is tricky, it’s going to cost Selina a certain amount of pride to get the words out. “I need a favour.”

He stops on his way back out the window and she swears she sees his shoulder sag, like he already knows he’s going to say yes. “I have a very busy night ahead of me.”

“I have intelligence that I need to keep out of the eyes of the Senate, if you catch my drift.”

“You’re moving against Palpatine?” He sounds surprised.

Selina shakes her head, slinking forward till the light from the fast food joints clogging the streets outside hits her face and he can get a proper look at her. “Not me. But I’m not completely heartless. I know something and I figure it would be the decent thing to do to let the guys who might make better use of the intel in on the big surprise.”

The Bat wears a mask to cover the top half of his face, and a ratty old cape that just about functions as a glider when he takes off from a high enough altitude. He wears a belt heavy with detonators and primitive projectile weapons that he must make himself because they’re all in the shape of a bat. He doesn’t carry a blaster though, and Selina’s never known him to use explosives to kill anyone.

Through the crack in the bottom of the mask that exposes his mouth, she watches his indecision play out. It’s all an act, they both know that he’s going to say yes.

“I can get you to the Rebellion in the South quadrant in three hours.” He mutters, then turns back to the window. “Come on.”

He goes first, jumping down to where he’s parked a speeder in the dumpster behind a bar. Selina follows, and even though he knows she has shock absorbers built into her shoes and gloves, the Bat is still waiting to catch her with open arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a lot of fun doing BatCat week this year, even in amongst NaNoWriMo and other writing commitments. Big thanks to everyone who's commented here and made content of their own - you guys have been great.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love. Come find me on [tumblr](http://jeffersonhairpie.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/chadfuture_)


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